White-knuckling Your Way Through Anxiety? Try God’s Peace Instead

“Keeping our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. For the joy that lay before him, he endured the cross, despising the shame, and sat at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb. 12:2, CSB).[1]

There was a season in my life that was filled with unprecedented stress and anxiety, sparked by one phone call that I should never have taken. It got so bad that at one point I ended up in the emergency room with my back tied up in knots, spasming in excruciating pain.

Through a series of choices we made and circumstances beyond our control, we had to foreclose on and leave a home we loved and file for bankruptcy, all within a few short months.

We lived not far from the house we left, and, while I was driving by it one day, a thought settled over me, one I couldn’t shake: I wasn’t built for this place. Nothing about it was mine to hold on to, and I was never meant to feel at ease here. Whatever peace I was looking for wasn’t going to come from getting comfortable in something this world could take away. I slowly began to feel a sense of peace, because, while losing a home was painful and filing for bankruptcy was humiliating, God was lifting my heart higher.

Why Jesus Never Seemed Rattled

And while I was starting to see His beautiful promises in more detail, I also started noticing something about Jesus’ life. He never seemed rattled. Frazzled, upset, blindsided by something He didn’t see coming? Not once. In fact, I don’t think Jesus was ever surprised.

Why not?

Because He was living out a plan—His and His Father’s—one step at a time. Ellen G. White captures it in The Desire of Ages: “Before He came to earth, the plan lay out before Him, perfect in all its details. But as He walked among men, He was guided, step by step, by the Father’s will.”[2]

Guided step by step. Jesus wasn’t handed the whole itinerary at once. He learned the plan one day at a time, seeking His Father for just the next right detail. And doing His Father’s will, not knowing every outcome in advance, was the source of His peace. “My words . . . are not my own,” He said. This message is from “the Father who sent me” (John 14:24, NIV). Obedience was His serenity. Purpose was His peace.

Magnetic Settledness

This kind of settledness is magnetic. People wanted to be near Him because He carried something most of us are starving for: a calm not dependent on circumstances lining up.

Someone might say, “Good for Jesus, but what about me? Is there a plan for me, too?” I believe there is. Not a plan to save humanity; the work of saving us is already finished. This is a plan for your days. Every day of my life was recorded in Your book, the psalmist writes. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed (see Ps. 139:16).

I can’t tell you exactly how God holds it together with your freedom to choose. Scripture doesn’t fully resolve this tension, and I won’t pretend to either. What I do know: His plan for you is for your good, and walking away from it costs you something real.

This is where my peace has come from too, not certainty about tomorrow, but trust: Today’s step is enough, and He is the one holding the rest.

If you’re white-knuckling your way through anxiety, wondering whether God actually has a plan for the mess you’re in, I’d love for you to trade your anxiety for God’s peace.

The original version of this commentary was posted by the Rocky Mountain Conference.

[1] Bible texts credited to CSB are taken from the Christian Standard Bible. Copyright © 2017 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission.

[2] Ellen G. White, The Desire of Ages (Mountain View, Calif.: Pacific Press Pub. Assn., 1898, 1940), p. 147.